


Knight Changes

by graceling_in_a_suit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (oh my!), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anachronism, Comedy, Curses, Dragons, Fluff and Crack, I have a dark sense of humour okay, Its set in a vaguely Arthurian world, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Slavery, Mentions of Violence, OT5 Friendship, Witches, and I was going for Monty Python thing, the mature rating is for violence not funtimes I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-09-26 09:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20387392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceling_in_a_suit/pseuds/graceling_in_a_suit
Summary: Louis has a promise to keep and a curse to break for a man in a bog. Niall, Liam, and Zayn are along for the ride. The real friends are the dragons we slay along the way.





	Knight Changes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musiclily88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/gifts).

> Written for the prompt: "Knights who DO NOT know what they are doing." 
> 
> I hope I did it justice.

“Loweth and behold! The dragon cave!” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Liam, I already fucking told you to stop talking like that. You sound like an idiot.” 

Liam flipped him off. 

Niall shushed him frantically. “Jesus, you make such a _ racket _every time you move in that thing.” 

Liam looked down at what he was wearing—heavy chain mail underneath even heavier armour. Louis wondered how he could see anything, what with that ridiculous great helm he’d insisted on wearing the entire treck here. “The joketh be on ye, for whence we meet the great beast in battle ye shall surely perish in your…. Shitty hats.” 

Louis pinched his nose. 

Zayn patted Louis on the shoulder—he’d opted to play the role of their serf, so he was only wearing threadbare breeches and a shit-stained tunic. Louis eyed the outfit longingly. A few short weeks ago that had been him. He missed the breathability: the freedom of movement.  
  
“Alright, I’ll stop,” Liam allowed. 

“Cheers.” Niall moved stiffly over to a tree so he could lean against it. “So, Louis. What’s the plan here?” He nodded over Louis’ shoulder to the clearing in front of them—scorched earth, burned up shrubbery, and a huge jagged hole in the ground that reeked of death—the perfect local for a charming summer home.

Louis bounced on his feet to get his blood pumping. “Right! Yes. Lads, you’re all doing _ great. _ Even you, Liam. But don’t think I won’t take that back if you start the ye olde shit up again.” He pointed at him sternly. If Liam reacted, Louis couldn’t tell; his entire face was ensconced in metal. He chose to move on. “Step One: Acquire some Knightly armour and weaponry was a complete success–” the boy’s interrupted with a few low-energy cheers and some waving of very sharp swords, “–yes, thank you—and Step Two: find ourselves a minstrel to document our exploits was _ technically _a success–” Zayn and Niall (and, presumably, Liam) winced and shot a look over their shoulder at the man currently lashed to their packhorse. He was still out cold, but at least he hadn’t let go of his lute yet. That was something. “So, you know. Points for effort. Christ, do you think he’s dead?” 

Louis squinted at him for a few moments. 

“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” he decided, turning around to glare at the cavernous maw before him. “Step Three: find ourselves a cave-full of winged serpent whomst we can viciously slay was a _ smashing _success. There’s no way there’s no dragons in that fucker.” 

“Oh, so _ he _can say ‘whomst’ but I can’t say–” Liam started to grumble, but Louis shut him up with a look. 

“Right, yeah, we’re all amazing,” Niall pushed himself off the tree with a shit-eating grin. He looked like a washed up ponce in the rusty mail coif he’d nicked, but. He’d let himself get roped into this mad fucking quest despite _ definitely _knowing better, so Louis couldn’t drag him for it. “But what’s Step Four? Hm?”

Louis gulped. He was hoping no one would ask that. “Well, wekillthedragon,” he mumbled. 

Zayn raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, what was that?” 

Niall nodded, pointing to his ear with a mockingly expectant look on his face. 

Okay, maybe Louis could drag him a little bit. “We. Kill. The. Dragon. Did you get that, Sir Fuck–”

“Woah, hey,” Liam butted in. His armour clinked and clanked as he struggled to raise his arms up in surrender. “No one said anything about _ murder.” _

“_ ‘Murder’ _, what? It’s a bloody dragon, Liam,” Louis hissed. “What did you think we were doing with the big knives and the stupid iron clothes, throwing ‘im a picnic?” 

Liam’s helm drooped. “I thought maybe we’d rough him up a bit, teach him a lesson. Tell him to stop burning down people’s houses, you know?” 

Louis pinched his nose again. At this rate he’d be bruised within the hour. “Obviously we’re not doing that, Liam.”

Zayn cleared his throat. “So, uh. What _ are _we doing?” At Louis’ frustrated expression, he rolled his eyes. “I just meant, are there more steps to the plan than ‘kill it?’”

Niall jumped in excitedly. “Yeah! Like, did your bog bloke give you any spells or–”

“For the last time, his name is _ Harry!” _ Louis snapped. “And for your information, he _ did _give me a spell. But since you’re all being pricks about it, I’m not gonna use it.” 

That seemed to shut them up. 

“Good.” Louis basked in the silence for a moment, then he pulled up the hood of his hauberk. “Alright. In we go.” 

And with that, he charged. 

The men behind him cheered, swords clanging against shields, metal armour clinking as their boots hit the ground. Louis thought, for a moment, that perhaps they had a chance after all. 

Then, a great plume of fire erupted from the mouth of the cavern. Louis stumbled back and shielded his eyes, neck straining to see how far up it went. 

“Fuck…” Niall shouted from somewhere behind him. 

“Retreat! Retreat!” 

Louis turned in time to see Liam speeding back towards the treeline, Niall and Zayn hot on his heels. 

“No! Come back here, you bloody cowards! It’s just a bit of fire!”

But Louis’ command fell on deaf ears; his comrades had disappeared into the woods. Louis coughed and squinted after them, but he couldn’t see a thing through the smoke that was starting the spread in the clearing. 

Suddenly, there was silence. Louis realised with a jolt that the roar of the fire behind him had been cut off. 

He gulped, then turned just in time to see a great claw protrude from the lip of the cavern. It was blood red, scales as big as Louis’ face and talons the size of his entire body. 

Perhaps he should have retreated after all. 

Yet, he couldn’t seem to make his body move. It was like a cursed nightmare; fixed in one place, unable to control his limbs no matter how hard he screamed at them. 

There was an angry sound, the rock cracking beneath the beast's grip, and then a snout appeared from within the darkness. It emerged slowly, almost cautiously. Louis tried to count how many teeth he could see in its great maw, but lost track after thirty. 

If he thought he’d known terror at the sight of it's claw, then what a fool he’d been; it was the dragon’s eye that held the very definition of fear glittering in its demonic pupil. 

The dragon peered around, then fixed it’s attention on the still-petrified Louis. 

It opened its mouth, and Louis had a single thought; _ I really hope I didn’t just shit my pants— _

“Wha’ddyou want?” 

Louis opened his eyes one at a time. He patted his chest down, but his vision wasn’t deceiving him; he was alive. And undigested. 

“Bloody ‘ell, I haven’t got all day.” 

Louis looked around for the voice that had spoken, hoping to warn the foul-sounding visitor about the _ great bloody dragon. _

“Up here, you ningnong.” 

Louis winced. Wonderful. 

He looked up slowly. He blinked at the dragon. He waited to be proven wrong. 

“I asked you a question,” it said. 

It’s mouth moved strangely as it spoke, almost like it hadn’t the ability to form words. And yet, Louis could hear it clear as day. 

“Uhhh–” Louis stammered. “Yes. Hello.” 

The dragon stared at him expectantly. 

Louis was at a complete loss. “How are you?” he tried. 

The dragon made a low rumbling sound, akin to a maniacal laugh. Or a cow mooing. “How _ am _I, tuts? Well, I was doing much better before you started making a racket at my doorstep., interrupting my nap. Watcha have to say for yourself?” 

Louis grimaced, then tried to transform the grimace into an apologetic smile. “Sorry?”

The dragon blinked. It was a horrific blink—three eyelids and an air of maleficence—and Louis shuddered. 

“I should hope so,” it drawled. The rock beneath its talons splintered and crumbled as it retracted its claw. It’s goliath-sized head retreated back into its neck, and Louis realised he was losing his chance. 

“Wait!” he called. “I need to ask something of you.” 

The beast stilled. It shot him a look that said, _ you? Ask something of _ me? _ I don’t fucking think so. _And yet, it simply said, “Alright, make it quick.” 

Louis scrambled through his thoughts, struggling in the face of such terror to remember what the _ fuck _he was doing here. 

“I’ve gotta ask—um. Your unholy greatness, with your most awesome visage, could you please, _ pretty-bloody-please, _stop attacking our human villages?”

The dragon sneered at him. 

Louis powered on. “My fellow knights have journeyed here to slay you, but I now see that’s not necessary, hm? Can’t we come to an agreement?” 

It studied it’s claw, then picked a worryingly human-shaped skull from one of it’s six rows of jagged teeth. 

“Whatcha got for me?” it asked. 

Louis blinked. “Uhh–”

The creature pointed at him. Louis stared at the talon in his face—a foot closer, and he’d have been skewered. “You never made a deal before, tuts? What’s in it for me?”

Louis couldn’t look away from the talon. Something had dripped off it while the beast had been speaking that looked suspiciously like blood. 

“This!” 

Louis and the dragon turned in tandem to see Liam, Niall, and Zayn standing at the treeline. Their packhorse was between them, rotated so that their captured minstrel was in full view in all his unconscious, frilly-clothed glory. 

The dragon squinted at it. “A horse?” it asked, sounding unimpressed. 

“Noooo,” Niall replied grandly. “A horse is nothing compared to your magnificence! But it strikes me as lonely, living in a big empty cave, sleeping all day and eating villagers all night, is it not?” 

The dragon considered this. “‘Spose.” 

“Exactly!” Liam jumped in. “So, if you agree to stop attacking our kind–”

“And give us a scale!” Louis jumped in. There was _ no _ way he was walking away without a trophy, not after almost shitting himself (and it was _ definitely _an almost—not that there had ever been any doubt). He had some dignity, thank you very much.

Liam nodded. “–Yes, and give us a scale to seal the bargain, then we will give you…” he paused, and Louis could tell he was posing beneath the helmet, “The gift of song!” 

There was a beat of silence. 

Zayn sighed. “He’s a minstrel, we’re saying we’re gonna give you a minstrel.” He patted the man’s cheek, causing the minstrel to stir. Louis watched the poor man look around vacantly, catch sight of the massive fucking dragon before him, and promptly fall back into his coma. 

“He’ll wake up soon,” Niall added. 

“Hmmm.” The dragon tapped its claws on the ground in thought, sending up clouds of ash. Louis looked at his friends and he hoped against hope. 

Liam caught Louis’ eyes and made a gesture Louis could only assume was meant to be a thumbs up. Next to him, Zayn was doing the same. Niall, on the other hand, appeared to be making a circle with his thumb and pointer finger, hand rested on his upper thigh. 

If Louis could’ve thrown his sword at him, he would have.

“Yeah, alright,” said the dragon. 

Louis jumped, whirling around to see the beast extend its claw towards the horse. 

Niall, Liam, and Zayn all dove out of the way as it’s talons closed around the unconscious minstrel and lifted him into the air.   
  
Somehow, the man retained hold of his lute. 

Louis stumbled back from the edge of the cave just in time to avoid being struck in the head by a heavy projectile from above. 

He cursed up a storm until he caught sight of the object lying on the ground at his feet; a blood-red scale, glinting in the sunlight. 

“I’ll leave you alone as long as this one’s alive,” the beast sneered, already disappearing back into the mouth of the cavern. “But no promises after that, you plonkers.” 

“Fuck you,” Louis mumbled, picking up the scale and brushing it clear of dirt. 

“Oi, what was that?” he heard from the depths of the cave. 

Louis winced and started walking backwards. “Nothing!” he called. 

There was no reply. 

Louis turned with a wicked grin to his men, scale held aloft in victory. “We fucking smashed that!” he cheered, jumping on his toes. “We slayed a fucking dragon!” 

Liam frowned. “We didn’t, though; we did what I said we should do at the start and you made fun of me for—”

Louis waved him off. “Doesn’t matter. By the time it re-emerges in, what, ten years or so? We’ll be knighted, and you’ll be surrounded in gold, and we’ll all be fucking _ laughing. _”

“Fuck yeah!” Niall yelled. 

Zayn scratched at his scruff. “Yeah, what Niall said. But, Louis—you alright with just handing that poor bloke over to a dragon? We kind of had to improvise, and to be honest I really didn’t expect it to work.” 

Liam shot him a betrayed look. Well, that answered the question of who’s plan it was. 

Louis considered Zayn’s words. He pulled his hood down awkwardly—gauntlets were _ not _ designed for fine motor control—and shook the sweat from his hair. “I reckon I’m fine with it,” he answered. “Better ‘im than us. As long as none of you fuckers tells Harry, yeah?” He pointed around the circle at them, waiting for each individual nod. “Good. I mean, it’s not like he specified his knight needed to have become one the _ honest _way.” 

Niall snorted. “Thank god, cause that would’ve been doomed before we even started. You secretly a noble under all those layers of sunburn and cow shit?” he asked jokingly, looking Louis up and down. 

Louis puffed his chest out. “No, but I can do _ this.” _He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger on his upper thigh. Niall glanced down at it, groaned, and refused to dodge the punch Louis landed on his arm. “Pillock.” 

“Oh, hey!” Zayn called. Louis looked over to where he was standing, loading up the packhorse. “Now that Dead Weight’s gone one of us can ride!” 

Louis shushed everyone before the inevitable racket started. “No, no, no. None of us are riding, I know you’ll all fight about it the whole way home. ‘S not happening.” 

Niall and Liam pouted, but Zayn had a mischievous glint in his eye. “What if you get first ride?” he asked. 

Louis tried to stay strong, but. As fit as he’d gotten from a lifetime of working in the fields, the armour they’d knicked was _ heavy. _

“Yeah, alright,” he said. 

Niall, Liam, and Zayn cheered. 

The packhorse looked unimpressed. 

_ //Star wipe; harp music// _

Louis had been minding his own business on a warm Spring morning when magic first entered his life. 

He was stomping through the undergrowth in the forest that bordered his village, looking for mushrooms and humming to himself a rather crude song he picked up at the tavern the previous night. All it took was a moment of distraction, and he was tumbling down a steep hill and into the swamp below.

“Fuck! Shit, buggery, Christ-” 

He stumbled to his feet, swearing up a storm and trying to wipe the foul-smelling bogwater from his eyes. 

“Oh, good morning,” someone said, but Louis didn't hear them over the sound of his profanity. 

Louis plucked his shirt away from his chest to shake off some of the mud, then started stomping back towards the hill. Maybe if he bathed _ really _well in the stream before he returned to the village, then Niall wouldn’t make fun of him for falling into the swamp. (He’d deserve it, though; he did the same when Niall fell in. But they were boys then, and he liked to think he’d matured at least a little bit since).

“No, don’t go—please?”

This time, Louis heard it. He paused, still facing away from the swamp. He raised his hands over his head slowly. “If you’re going to eat me, just know that I definitely have worms.”

There was a beat of silence, then the unmistakable sound of a legs pushing through mud and bogwater, squelching their way towards Louis. 

“At least you’ve got some company, then,” said the voice. It was a rather nice voice; warm and dry (Louis couldn’t relate). He tilted his head to the side and frowned. 

“You don’t sound like a kelpie,” he accused, whirling around. 

“Don’t I?” Asked the man—Louis could see it was a man, now. Or, at least, something man-adjacent. Standing before him was a tall shape, with arms and legs and a head, completely covered in moss and weeds and mud. “Must be because I’m not one.”

Louis frowned and pushed closer to him, ignoring the mud that now came up to his knees. “In that case, d’you mind forgetting I mentioned my worms?”

“....Sure.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Louis nodded, then looked around for something to do with his eyes other than stare impolitely at the swamp-covered man in front of him. “Come here often...?”

“It’s Harry. And, I mean. You could say that.”

Louis raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve been sort of cursed. A little bit.”

Louis stumbled backwards.

“Wait, please don’t go! I need your help!”

“Nope, no thanks, mate,” he squawked, struggling to rush towards the hill. It involved a lot of flailing. “I’m not fucking with curses. I’ll take me chances with the worms.”

A hand closed around his arm, and Louis stilled. Harry turned him back around gently, and Louis—for some idiotic reason—let him. 

“It’s a really easy curse to break, I promise.” Harry smiled at him hopefully, and Louis realised he could actually see his face through the moss and mud. It was an upsettingly handsome face.

Louis’ shoulders slumped. “What do you need?” 

Harry’s smile widened, revealing two rows of disarmingly normal teeth. “A kiss from a knight.”

Nevermind. 

“Good luck with that!” Louis said. He patted Harry’s hand, then plucked it off his shoulder. “No bloody knights around here, sunshine—not since before I was born.”

Harry sighed. He didn’t seem frustrated like Louis would surely be in his situation; he just seemed forlorn, almost resigned. 

“Can you please just try? It wasn’t so bad at first,” he said, gesturing to his swampy home, “but it’s been… quite a while, now. And I miss doing non-cursed things.” 

At Louis’ dubious expression, Harry pulled something out of his leg (hopefully there was a pocket somewhere in all that slime). “Here, I’ll give you this if you’ll help me.” He held up a small, muddy object, and Louis squinted at it. It looked like it might have been a drawstring pouch, once. “It’ll bring you good luck, when you need it.”

“No offence, mate, but I think you need that more than me.”

Harry deflated. For a moment, the only noise Louis heard was the droplets of brown-tinted water splashing into the swamp from Harry’s weed-ridden hair.

“Fuck. Alright, fine. I’ll do it. Gimme that.” Louis snatched the pouch from Harry’s hand.

Harry beamed at him beatifically. 

Louis pointed at him sternly. “I’m only doing this because you bribed me. Don’t go ‘round telling anybody I’ve got a heart or nothing.”

Harry shook his head, backing away into the swamp. The bogwater swallowed him up, welcoming him like a missing limb. _ He’s really got it bad, _Louis thought. 

“How can I do that when I don’t even know your name?” he asked, still smiling. 

“That’s because I know better than to go sowing my name across any old fae-trapped field I find,” Louis replied. “You’ll get my name when your curse is lifted. I’m not an idiot.” 

Harry’s shoulders sunk below the water, then his neck. “Smart _ and _handsome? Pity you’re not a knight, then you’d be perfect for me,” he drawled. 

Louis felt himself blush beneath the layer of caked-on mud on his face. 

With a wet _ plop!, _Harry was gone from view. 

The entire walk home, Louis was so distracted trying to think of how in the_ hell _he was supposed to find a knight that he forgot to bathe.

An afternoon of Niall pointing and laughing at him was enough to take his mind off things.

_ //Star wipe; harp music// _

“So, that’s Crestary, huh? The city of cities? The jewel in the royal crown?” Niall surveyed the castle in the distance. “‘S not very…. Big.”

“That’s because it’s far away, Niall,” Louis answered, not looking up from his hand-drawn map. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Niall snapped back, waving his non-armoured hand in front of Louis’ face. They’d ditched all non-essential armour elements about five days ago, much to the packhorse’s annoyance. 

Louis shoved Niall’s hand out of the way, opening his mouth to reply. 

“Actually, I think he’s got a point,” Liam said. He was holding his hands up in front of his eyes in two tubes and squinting through them. “It looks tiny.” 

Louis scoffed and turned to see what all the fuss was about. “You’re ridiculous, Crestary is grand and enour—oh. Oh, dear.”

“Yep.” 

“That’s—that’s _not_ very far away. Oh, no.”

“Yep.” 

“WHY IS IT SO SMALL?”

Niall threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know, Louis? Does it say anything on your fancy map there about Crestary having been hit with a shrinking curse, or–”

“I think I would have noticed that, Niall!”

“Uh, lads?"

“I don’t know mate, you didn’t notice that the castle was barely bigger than an ox when it was right in front of your face.”  
  
“Lads!” Zayn shouted. “Calm thy tits and listen, would you?” He trotted towards the castle, then stopped to point at a wooden sign staked into the ground. “It says right here that it’s a _ model _castle. For tourists?”

“Oh my god, Zayn, why would you say that when you _ know _we can’t read!” Liam cried. 

Zayn winced. 

Louis rolled his eyes then squinted at his map. “No, yes, I mean. Now that you mention it, there is a scribble on here that _ could _be a tiny Crestary.”

“So?” Niall raised his eyebrows. “How much further is it to the real one?” 

Louis tilted his head to the side, then turned the map upside down. 

Liam made a cross over his chest and started praying under his breath. 

_ //Star wipe; harp music// _

This time when Louis stumbled down the hill, he managed not to fall into the swamp below—which was a miracle, since he’d been back twice already and he’d ruined his best tunic both times. 

“Harry! I’m back!”

Bubbles appeared in the centre of the swamp, then two green eyes emerged from the depths. 

“I brought you something?” Louis smiled hopefully, careful to keep his hands tucked behind his back.

Harry’s form raised up to his torso, body dripping steadily—that moss-and-mud flesh was quite moist. “Ohhh,” Harry sing-songed, walking towards Louis with his hands outstretched. “Presents?”

“Sure, yeah,” Louis laughed, trying not to stare as a toad erupted from Harry’s shoulder and landed with a splash into the muddy water. “Um?”

“That’s just Fernando,” Harry explained, close enough now to loom over Louis and attempt to peak over his shoulder. 

Louis rolled his eyes, bringing his hands around so he could show Harry the bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked in one hand and a shiny apple in the other. 

“For me?” Harry breathed. His breath smelled like bogwater, but Louis breathed through it. 

“No, actually, they’re for Fernando.” 

Harry snorted, accepting the bouquet when Louis thrust it forwards into his hands. (His hands were strange to the touch; soft and unpleasantly malleable). Harry brought them up to his face, then seemed to remember he no longer possessed a working nose—just a nose-shaped mound of mud. Not letting this phase him, he started plucking flowers from the bunch and sticking them right into his body. “D’you think they’ll grow?” 

Louis frowned in concern. “Harry, do you know how plants work?” 

“Yes,” he answered too quickly. “You can keep the apple, by the way. I can’t eat anymore.”

“Right, yeah; about that,” Louis said. “This was kind of a going away present.” At Harry’s look of despair, Louis rushed to explain. “I’m setting out with some friends to find you a knight, don’t worry! We’ll be back soon.”  
  
Harry beamed, and the various flowers stuck into his swamp-flesh all seemed to perk up. 

Louis took a bite of the apple to avoid saying anything he might regret, such as: _ we’re actually going to become knights ourselves because there honestly are fucking _ none _ this side of Crestary, I checked, _because Harry was a cursed bog-man and the last thing he needed was the knowledge that his only hope of rescue was a rag-tag bunch of peasant farmboys armed with a hunk of cheese and a loaf of stale bread. 

“Thank you, Louis,” Harry said (Louis had given in and told Harry his name at during visit two; potential fairy kidnapping be damned). “May the Lord bless your quest.”

“Yes, definitely. Love that guy. You’re welcome.”

_ //Star wipe; harp music// _

“So…. _ this _is Crestary?” Niall asked. 

Louis tucked his helm underneath one arm and nodded. 

“At least it’s not tiny?” Liam offered. 

“It’s definitely not that,” Zayn muttered. 

“Alright, none of that,” Louis snapped, turning to address his friends. “Just because it looks a little scorched, and there are a few chunks missing, and there are a couple _ tasteful, decorative _piles of dead bodies, doesn’t mean our plans have changed.”

“Hmm, is that one dead?” Liam pointed to a woman who was trying to claw her way out of one of the piles. 

Louis waved him off. “That’s not important, Liam; focus. We’re a group of noblemen and their faithful squire, we’ve just slayed a dragon, and we’d like to be knighted for our troubles. Got it?” 

Louis waited for three nods, then turned towards the castle gate. The drawbridge was lowered, allowing for a sneak peak into the depressing visage beyond. 

“What the fuck happened here?”

_ //star wipe// _

The Queen groaned and fell back against her throne. The other servants in the throne room carried on with their duties—sweeping rubble into a pile, repairing the banquet table, hurrying to and fro (some while noticeably limping). “Oh, I couldn’t possibly repeat it all over again. Why don’t you just look at the tapestry.”

She gestured over to the far wall, where a woman was standing before a large wooden construction and swearing at a needle. The tapestry appeared to have only just been started—there was just a foundation of vertical threads with the barest hint of the intended image. 

“It’s… very informative,” Louis said, smiling as politely as he could manage. “But do you think you might summarise?”

The Queen sighed and leaned back in her throne. “Very well. Some years ago, a member of our family was stolen by a dragon. Some Lady or other, I don’t recall,” she yawned. “And my husband, the king, in all his infinite wisdom, chose to retaliate by amassing the kingdom’s wealth and displaying it along the parapets.”

Louis cleared his throat. “May I ask why?” 

The Queen gave him an odd look. “Because dragons are drawn to wealth, of course.”

“I thought it was fire?” Liam piped up.

“No, no, no; they _ breathe _fire,” Niall corrected. “It’s maidens they like.”

“I think you’re thinking of unicorns,” Zayn butted in, forgetting once again to play the humble squire. “Dragons like shiny things.”

“Exactly!” The Queen snapped, quite rudely. “It might have taken some time, but my husband’s plan did lure the beast to our castle gates. It was quite a credit to him, very heroic.”

Louis raised his hand, and she directed her chilling gaze his way. “Would it be safe to assume that the winged serpent stole all of your gold and rained down a wave of fiery destruction that decimated your people?”

The Queen’s mouth pinched. 

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the muttering of the weaver in the corner. 

“So!” The Queen clapped. “What brings you to Camelot?” 

Liam stepped forwards, hands reaching into the satchel clutched in Zayn’s hands. “Well, our tale might be of interest to you–” he began.

“No, actually, maybe we shouldn’t bother Her Majesty with this!” Louis squeaked. He tried to discreetly gesture to Liam to put away the scale he was retrieving, but Liam only frowned at him. 

“It’s no bother at all,” The queen intoned. Her face betrayed nothing but utter boredom.

“You see, Your Majesty,” Liam started again. Louis stepped on his foot, which only had the effect of producing a rather loud _ clang _that echoed through the royal hall. Liam carried on. “We are but four–”

“–_ three!” _

“—Three travelling Lords. On our way to pay our respects to yourself and the King, we happened across a fearsome dragon, whom we slayed in victorious battle!” 

With that, Liam pulled the scale from the bag. 

Louis hid his head in his hands.

“Oh, why didn’t you mention this sooner?” The queen perked up. “How big was it?”

“Why, at least fifty horses high!” Niall boasted, clapping Louis around around shoulder until he dropped his hands and bared his teeth in an almost-smile. “And twice as long!”

“Hm, yes, interesting,” the Queen said. “And this is one of the beast’s scales? Was it this colour all over?”

“Aye, My Queen,” Niall bowed.

The Queen huffed. “Shame. The dragon that attacked Crestary was blue. Oh! Perhaps you’d be up for another adventure, gentleman?”

Louis tried to decline, but Niall was faster. 

“Of course,” he grinned. 

“Since you’re such capable Lords, brave enough to slay a dragon all on your own, I would like to do you the honour of becoming Knights of Crestary!” 

Before they could start cheering, the queen held up a finger. “If you would complete one small quest for me; a test of mettle, if you will.”

Louis was tempted to throw himself out of the castle window. “Would this be before or after we slay the dragon that attacked Crestary?” he asked wearily.

The Queen blinked at him. “During, my good sir. How on Earth did you know the nature of quest I was about to bestow upon you?”

Louis glanced at the tapestry on the wall. “Lucky guess?”

“Oh, I’m sure such strapping and capable young Lords as yourself don’t require luck,” she smiled. “And do try and keep an eye out for whats-her-name, will you?”

“Who?” Liam asked. 

“Yes,” replied the Queen. “Now, off with you! The dragon’s tracks are growing colder as we speak.” She lifted her gilded goblet and took a long gulp of wine, then burped into her hand. It was surprisingly dignified. 

Louis seethed as they made their exit. He'd been tempted to throw his gauntlet right at her royal face, but restrained himself. 

His restraint lasted all the way out of the castle. In fact, it wasn’t until they were stomping through the fields surrounding Crestary trying to find _ dragon tracks _that he exploded. 

“I can’t fucking believe this.” He threw his hands into the air, startling their packhorse. “We didn’t even get a sit-down or a thank you before she was shoving us out of her ornate wooden doors to go solve a problem her _ conspicuously absent _husband caused in the first place.”

“Pretty sure the King’s been dead for years,” Zayn added, chewing on a licorice root. “So what’s that about?”

“What? No,” Niall scoffed. “He’s still alive.”

Zayn pointed the root at him. “You keep telling yourself that, errand boy. I saw you kissing _ her majesty _’s ass in there.”

Niall snorted. “Yeah, because that was the plan_ , _ remember? Slay a dragon? Become knights? Lifetime of riches? Wasn’t that what you were drunkenly slurring at us when we agreed to this, Louis?”

Louis winced. “Might have been, yeah. I’ll be the first to admit that things have—perhaps!— fallen off the rails a little.”

“Maybe we should have just stayed in Tiny Crestary,” Liam said, taking a seat right on the grass. “I don’t want to face another dragon! We don’t even have a human sacrifice this time.”

“It wasn’t a human sacrifice, Liam,” Louis explained patiently. “We traded a life for an item of value; that’s just plain-old slavery.”

Liam looked up at him, made a face, then flicked down the visor of his helm like an insolent toddler.

“Very mature,” Louis said. “Great teamwork.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Yeah, same to you.”

“Thank you, Niall.” Louis turned and urged the horse to resume walking. “Now come on, you lot. We’re _ this _close to getting knighted; we’ve just got to slay another dragon. No big deal.” 

_ //right-to-left wipe// _

After a day of searching, a short afternoon break that entailed had Louis, Niall, and Liam throwing their swords at birds because Zayn bet them his rations that they couldn’t hit a single one (he was, of course, right), and an evening of setting up camp in a forest that—judging by a trail of scorched trees—likely held their target blue dragon, Louis found himself sitting at the edge of a moonlit pond. 

Well, it was more of a large puddle than a pond, mostly full of sediment and water-grass. 

Louis was fiddling with the drawstring pouch around his neck. He’d managed to clean it some days ago with careful fingers and a lot of patience. He tested the weight of it in his hand—no heavier than a feather, which wasn’t a good sign that the solution to all his problems was inside—and sighed. “This is what I get for trying to be a good person, huh?” 

“Is that what this is?” 

Louis’ head shot up. Sitting on a small log sticking out of the middle of the pond was a toad. It blinked at him. 

“... Fernando?”

The toad hopped away, disappearing into the undergrowth. 

A small ripple caught Louis’ eye on the other side of the pond. Two green eyes emerged from the mossy shadows. “No, that was Gwendolyn.”

“Of course, my apologies,” Louis said, still in shock. “What are you doing here, Harry? I thought you were—uh, swamp-bound?”

Harry stepped into a circle of thin moonlight filtering down through the trees above. He looked around, then back at Louis. “This is a swamp.”

“It’s more of a puddle, actually.”

Harry laughed, then shrugged. Somehow, he didn’t look quite as horrifying in the moonlight—he just looked like a normal, handsome man who’d had an unfortunate run in with a mudpit. It made Louis’ heart do something strange in his chest. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just… woke up here this morning. The water beetles have been very welcoming.” 

He held up his hand to reveal at least twenty beetles wriggling about on his mud-flesh. 

“Harry, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Harry nodded, still staring at the beetles. “I get that.” He shook himself off, smiling over at Louis. “So, how goes your quest? Find me a knight yet? And thank you, again–”

“–No need, don’t mention it,” Louis interrupted. He fiddled with his hair for a moment, glad that he’d already removed all that cumbersome armour for the night. “So, here’s the thing: I’m working on a plan that will mean you’ll have three knights to choose from—you know, just in case one or two don’t work out, curses can be tricky—but it’s going to involve slaying a dragon. Well, _ another _dragon. Well, really, we didn’t kill the first one. And by we I mean me and my friends. We’re the knights. Hopefully.” Louis spread his arms. “Surprise?”

Harry blinked at him, standing perfectly still in his pond. The beetles dropped off his hand, swimming off in different directions. Louis watched them go so he didn’t have to see any disappointment (or, an assembly of moss and dirt and slime that_ resembled _disappointment). 

“Well. Um.” Harry cleared his throat. “It sounds to me like you’re all going to die.”  
  
“Yeah, pretty much.”

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, then offered Louis a small smile and an even smaller water beetle. 

“Cheers.”

_ //star wipe// _

“Loweth and behold! The dragon cave!” 

Niall and Zayn cracked up. 

“Great joke, Louis,” Niall said, wiping tears from his eyes through the slit in his barbute.

Liam tugged off his helmet—it took a few tries, it was very hard to manoeuvre in armour—then stared at them in pointed betrayal. 

Niall shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s funny when Louis does it.” 

Liam shoved his helmet back on. 

“So, same thing again?” Zayn asked, yawning into his hand like this was any old low-stakes romp in the woods. 

“No, I think we need a better plan this time,” Liam said. “Maybe we can barter the horse?”   
  
All four of them turned to stare at the packhorse. It blinked at them lazily then farted. 

“No, that’s not going to work.” Liam deflated. 

Louis looked down at the drawstring pouch held in his hand. “I think we might need to use this,” he said, lifting it up reluctantly.  
  
“Is that the bog-bloke spell?” Niall asked, leaning close to peer at it. 

“Yes, and for the last time–”

“It’s Harry, we know.” Niall rolled his eyes. “But I think we’re entitled to make fun of you for dragging us all the way _ here,” _he gestured at the mouth of the cave below them, about twice as large as their last dragon cave, “just because you met some victimised dickhead in a swamp—who none of us have seen, by the way.”

Zayn and Liam nodded. 

Louis looked around at his friends. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“Louis, you literally begged us to come,” answered Zayn. 

“But you didn’t have to say yes! Just because I made a promise–”

Niall unsheathed his sword. “Don’t be thick, sunshine. ‘Course we were going to come. All I’m saying is, we reserve the right to be assholes about it.”

Liam nodded, struggling to also pull his sword from its sheath. After a few moments, Zayn gave up and helped him. Once Liam had his sword at the ready, he flipped down his visor.  
  
“It’s time to slayeth us a drake!” he cried. 

Zayn cheered, then turned and walked over to where the horse was secured to a tree, happily munching some grass. 

“Lucky prick,” Niall cursed, watching him go. 

Louis turned to the mouth of the cave. He looked down at the pouch in his hand. “Love the energy, lads,” he commented idly—his mind was racing at what could be inside. He pulled the drawstring loose with bated breath then looked inside. His shoulders deflated when he saw what is was; fuck all. “Typical,” he muttered, tucking the empty bag back into his pocket. 

Liam banged a fist against his breastplate, oblivious to Louis' disappointment. “We doing this, or what?” 

“You know what, Liam? Yes, we are. Fuck it!” Louis replied, unsheathing his own sword. “Let’s go slay a dragon!”

_ //jump cut// _

Harry Styles—only son of a blacksmith and a candlemaker—inherited his parent's temperaments and their fortunes at a young age. The former was due to their impeccable parenting, and the latter was due to their lax fire safety; they perished in a raging blaze when he was barely fifteen. 

Heartbroken but determined, Harry set out to the city of Crestary to take a position among the Royal Guard and take control of his own journey.

It was three years into his tenure when tragedy struck; a classic case of wrong-place-wrong-time—nothing personal on fate’s behalf. 

You see, he was keeping post outside the South Wall when he thought he saw something glowing in the distance. It was an enchanting glow just beyond the tree-line, and he couldn’t help but walk towards it—his first of many mistakes. 

As he approached, he watched as the glow became brighter and brighter until it suddenly flickered out.   
  
He was close enough now to hear swearing and stomping feet. 

“Hello?” he called. 

“Fuck off!” A voice called back. 

Harry froze. 

A face appeared from amongst the trees. Shadow-covered eyes studied him curiously, and then someone moved into the light. 

“Lady Aurelia?” Harry took a step backwards and dropped into a bow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognise you.” He frowned at his boots, then looked back up at her unimpressed scowl. “Should you be outside alone at this hour?”

She pursed her lips and studied her nails. She wasn’t much older than Harry, but there was a dark energy about her—something in the way her dark red robes blended into the black of the night. When she spoke, her voice betrayed a deep anger. 

“You know what your problem is? All of you?” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but she barreled on ahead. 

“You’re intimidated by a lady who refuses to wed!” She threw her hands in the air, ignoring Harry’s protests to the contrary. He decided to shut up after that, because clearly this wasn’t about him. “You’re hounding me every day, trouncing me along from Knight to Knight, from Earl to Lady to Earl again, ‘but this one’s much younger, dear’, and you don’t listen to me when I tell you that I’d rather turn every last one of them into toads than even _ think _of marrying them!”

“That sounds very frustrating,” Harry said, arranging his hands behind his back, careful to keep his expression kind in spite of the growing sense of dread in his stomach.

“It is." Her frown melted into a sharp grin. "But tonight is very special for me! The moon is shining,” she gestured upwards, and for the first time Harry noticed an odd blue tinge to her skin, “and the equinox flows through me, and all of my planning and research is about to pay off.”  
  
“That’s great, my Lady.” Harry smiled. 

“Isn’t it? So you understand, then, why I have to curse you.” She pouted in faux-sympathy. 

Harry held his hands up. “Wait, we can talk about this–”

She flicked her wrist, and the light was back; her entire hand was glowing. She chanted something—just a few lines—and Harry felt his body start to shift and transform. It didn’t hurt, which he was glad for; it just felt… sticky. 

“I was saving that one for my mother, but you can enjoy it instead. Pretty simple—you'll need a kiss from a knight or you’ll dissolve into whichever bog you end up in, trapped forever in amongst the muck and the mire. Standard curse stuff; you’re lucky you seem nice.”

Harry tried to reply—to cry out, to do _ anything—_but the light glowed brighter and his entire body seemed to go, _POP!_

And when he woke up, it was to an unfamiliar hillside with unfamiliar trees and an unfamiliar sensation in his skin. 

_ Standard curse stuff. _

_ //jump cut// _

For a dragon’s lair, the interior of the cave was surprisingly…

“...tidy.”

“I was _ just _thinking that, thank you!” Liam whispered back. 

The daylight was starting to dim this far in, but there was a hint of firelight flickering in the depths of the cave, so Louis had prohibited anyone from lighting a torch. 

As a result, there’d been more than a few stumbles and swears (a good portion of which had been him). 

“What’d you expect, stacks of bones?” Niall hissed. 

“No, but some cobwebs couldn’t hurt!” Louis waved around at the smooth, shiny stone. “It’s too nice in here!”

“I can hear you, you know.”

Louis froze, holding out his arm to stop the other two. 

“Who said that?” 

“It’s me, your conscience!” Answered the voice. It sounded like it was coming from every direction at once. “Why did you eat the last turkey leg at lunch three years ago? Little Timmy was starving for seconds.” 

Louis shared a look with Niall and Liam. 

“Who’s Timmy?” Liam asked shakily. 

“He’s a metaphor, keep up.” The voice was getting closer and closer, and Louis could almost pinpoint a direction. He closed his eyes and steadied his hands, thinking back to that Summer he’d had to operate without his eyes after a travelling monk had told him there were demons in them and no one would let him take his blindfold off until a black cat wandered into town and they all lost interest. “What are you doing in my cave?”  
  
Louis swung around, aiming his sword at a shadowy figure to his right. 

A torch burst to life on the wall behind them, illuminating the figure’s blood red robes, long blonde hair, and very judgy eyebrows partially hidden behind a hood. 

“Am I supposed to be scared by that?” The woman asked. She waved a hand and Louis’ sword went flying, clattering against the stone floor. 

Liam and Niall stood frozen behind him, both their swords still raised. 

“I’ll ask again,” the woman said, brushing some cave dirt off her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” 

“We’re here to slay a dragon,” Liam answered, “but it’s quite possible we’ve got the wrong cave.”

The woman sighed and lowered her hood. She looked like a perfectly normal young lady, apart from a pattern of blue scales around her forehead and two reptilian slits where her pupils should have been. 

“Oh, so you’re clearly just an average, independent lass who lives alone in a cave with, I’m assuming, piles and piles of stolen gold? Nothing out of the ordinary here, we’ll just be off now–”  
  
She held up a hand, and Louis cut himself off. 

“How bad was it?” 

Louis didn’t move. 

She looked between the three of them, expression stony. “How. Bad?” 

Niall cleared his throat. “The Queen might have mentioned a death toll, my Lady? Is that what you’re referring to?” 

She nodded. 

Louis winced and took a small step backwards.  
  
“Just a couple hundred—”

The woman’s hands burst into flame. 

“—injured! Couple hundred injured. Only fifty deaths. She didn’t seem too torn up about it.” 

“Right! Yes. They were already onto the tapestry-making stage of the mourning process,” Louis added. “I think they’ll be over it within the year, especially if you—no pressure!—returned the gold?” 

The woman’s hands extinguished, and her shoulders relaxed. “No, I don’t think so. The gold is definitely mine.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Liam said. “You make a good point.”

The woman ignored him. “I didn’t mean to hurt so many people, but what was I supposed to do? That idiotic king wouldn’t stop piling more and more gold all over his walls, he was basically _ begging _me to come and eat it all–”

“I’m sorry?” Louis asked deliriously. “Eat it?” 

“–And then they started shooting at me, so I reacted. Yes, eat it; I’m a dragon. Some of the time. That’s what dragons do.” 

Niall shook his head. “No, I think dragons like maidens.”

She tilted her head to the side and five more wall-torches illuminated, casting the cavern in a warm golden glow. “I thought that was unicorns?” 

“Oh, is that a spit roast?” Liam asked, rushing over to the fire. “Hell yes!”

The woman sent him an odd look, then offered Louis her hand. “Lady Aurelia. Part time dragon, full time witch and radical cave hermit.”

Louis accepted her hand, shaking it firmly. He was glad to still be wearing a gauntlet; her palm was scorching. “Louis,” he provided. “Lowly peasant, part time curse-breaker and full time bad-choices-maker. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Can I have some of this?” Liam asked. Louis looked over and saw he’d already started to help himself. 

“I could hex your testicles for that,” Aurelia said, pointing at him. 

Liam looked between her and the meat. “So…?"

She dropped her hand and laughed. “Sure. Have it.”

The Lady Aurelia had quite a story to tell, as it turned out. By the time she was done with it, the meat was half gone and the fire was burning down. She’d been kind enough to share her mead and her company, which was more than Louis could say of anyone else he’d met since he’d set off on this quest. 

“So, what’s this curse you’re breaking, then?” She asked, handing Louis another dried apple slice. 

Niall, Liam, and Zayn—who’d wandered in from outside after the sun had set; he’d been very surprised to find them alive—all groaned, falling backwards.   
  
“Here we go.” Niall threw his hands up. “You had to ask about the bog bloke.”

“_His name is Harry, _ ” Liam said before Louis could. He was putting on a higher-pitched voice, and Louis was insulted to realise it was supposed to sound like him. 

Aurelia raised her eyebrows, and Louis swallowed his bite so he could explain. 

He only go about one-sentence in when she held up a hand, a cloud passing over her face. 

“What is it?”

She winced. Her chin disappeared into her neck as she shrunk back. “Ewwhuuhhh.”

Niall, Liam, and Zayn all took notice, sitting up to study her expression. 

“So, full disclosure, I was in a really bad place at the time—”

“Oh, no.” Louis hid his face in his hands. 

“–And it was, like, a wrong-place-wrong-time kind of thing! Totally a freak accident. Caused by me,” she continued. Her hands were starting to glow. 

Louis groaned even louder. 

“I forgot about it! I’m sorry! How is this a bigger deal than the fifty people I killed?” 

“‘Relia,” Niall burped. “You’re not making this better for yourself, love.” 

“Ok, I’m ok,” Louis said, running his hands down his face. “So, can you break it, please?” 

She pursed her lips and looked down at the ground. She waited a beat, then shook her head. 

If she couldn’t likely explode him with a thought, Louis might have clobbered her. 

“Then what do you suggest,” he asked patiently.   
  
She gave him a look. “You’re already doing it, aren’t you? Become a knight, break the curse.” 

“So, it’ll work even though we aren’t noble-born?” Liam leaned forwards. “We were wondering about that.”

She squinted into the middle distance. “Should do.”

Louis took a deep breath. “Lovely. Well, thank you for your help. Just a quick question before we go?” He stood up awkwardly, ignoring the clanging of his armour. 

“Sure,” she said. She stood, noticed Niall and Liam struggling, and flicked her wrist to send them upright in an instant. 

“D’you mind if we tell everyone you’re dead?”

_ //star wipe// _

“–And then Liam slung his great sword and plunged it into the dragon’s heart!” Louis slammed his fist against the table, and the listening audience in the banquet hall all jumped in their seats. 

“That’s when I tore this from the beast's side—a trophy of our heroic victory!” Niall stood, holding a gleaming blue scale aloft. Louis was thankful Aurelia had been generous enough to let them have one—though apparently she shed them like crazy in Winter. 

The long table erupted in cheers. The Queen at the head of the table joined in, but the king did not; come to think of it, he’d yet to move a muscle the entire dinner. 

Louis squinted at him until the Queen noticed him staring and sent a look his way. 

She stood as Niall sat back down, raising her goblet aloft. “To Crestary’s newest Knights!” 

“To the knights!” The room chorused. 

Louis met Liam’s eyes over their glasses. He waggled his eyebrows, and Louis winked at him. 

Next to him, Niall was smiling. He was conversing with Lord Something-or-other on his right. Louis caught sight of Zayn over Niall’s shoulder, standing to attention with the other servants at the far wall. He was holding his hand on his thigh, thumb and pointer finger touching to form a circle. 

He noticed Louis glaring and laughed, because he _ knew _that Louis couldn’t throw a bread roll at him no matter how much he wanted to. 

He was a _ knight _now; Queenie placed a sword on his shoulders and everything. It was a beautiful ceremony, if a bit rushed. It was clear she was more interested in the wine than the knighting. 

All the same, he’d done it. 

The only thing left was to keep his promise. 

_ //classy cross-dissolve// _

The sun was starting to rise by the time Louis found the pond-more-of-a-puddle again. He’d had to wait for the party to die down before he could sneak out of the castle, but it seemed like everyone wanted to meet him and thank him for vanquishing the beast that had all but destroyed their city.

Louis couldn’t imagine why.

Needless to say, stumbling around drunk in an unfamiliar woodland in the dead of night wasn’t very conducive to finding one’s way. 

At least he’d thought to take off his armour before he set out; newly-sober Louis very grateful to drunk-Louis for that. 

He caught sight of a familiar-shaped puddle of muddy water and sprinted towards it. He screeched to a halt at the meager shoreline, shoes sinking down to his ankles. “Harry!” he called, cupping his hands over his mouth. 

Two eyes appeared in the centre of the pond, and Louis grinned. 

Then, the rest of Harry’s face emerged, and Louis’ grin vanished. 

“What happened to you?” he asked. He was wading into the water before he could even think about it. 

Harry tried to smile, but the once-compact mud and moss that made up his face was sludging off at odd angles and it ended up looking more like a grimace. “Standard curse stuff,” he said. 

At least his voice hadn’t changed; still so warm and dry. 

Louis came to a stop about a foot away from him. “Well, I might be able to help with that.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Did you do it? When I saw you weren’t dead, I just assumed you’d chickened out–”

“Excuse you, I’m a very brave and heroic Knight. Check your attitude.” Louis puffed his chest out, then laughed at himself. “I can’t believe it, either. It turns out that the dragon was actually–”

“That’s great, Louis, but can you kiss me please?” Harry asked. A clump of his cheek fell off. 

Louis winced. “Sure, of course, yeah,” he said, shuffling closer. He raised a hand to Harry’s face, mostly just to make sure the rest of it didn’t fall off on him. “Here goes nothing!” 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned forwards. 

“A curse breaking kiss!” Louis said, meeting him halfway. 

Harry nodded. His pond-weed hair tickled Louis’ hands. 

“It’s happening right now!”

Louis did nothing. 

Harry sighed and pulled back, taking Louis’ hand with him—the swamp-slime had stuck them together, but he didn’t seem to notice. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I understand I’m not… myself, right now. Thank you for trying.”

Well. That clearly wouldn’t do.

Louis pulled him close, ignored the beetles swimming past his waist, and pressed his lips to the part of Harry’s face where his lips should have been. 

It was incredibly unpleasant. Louis wasn’t sure why he’d been expecting anything else—he was essentially just kissing a bog—but he didn’t let it get to him. He kept kissing, and he kept hoping, and he started to make a backup plan in the back of his mind that involved getting Aurelia to turn him into a toad so at least he could keep Swamp Harry company.

His lips met air for just a moment as Harry pulled away. Louis didn’t dare open his eyes; he just stood there, frozen. And then he felt something new; a press of lips against his own. 

_ Flesh _lips. 

He kissed back, caught up in the feel of it—of the skin beneath his hand, warm and dry—and then his brain caught up to his body and he reared backwards. 

Two strong hands caught him around the waist, steadying him before he could trip and fall into the pond.   
  
Louis stared down at the hands, marvelling at their beauty. Then, his eyes travelled up the hands to a pair of arms—also beautiful—to a naked torso—yep, still beautiful—to a neck—does he even need to say?—until his gaze came to rest upon Harry’s face. 

Harry was smiling at him—at least his teeth was still the same; a thought that was at once comforting and unnerving. His hair flowed down his shoulders in soft brown curls, and his cheeks were tinted rose. He looked like a dream. 

“I’m still drunk, aren’t I?” Louis moaned. 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “No. Or—well.” He tilted his head to the side. “Maybe, I don’t know. But you don’t seem drunk.”

“Good, that’s good,” Louis said. “So. Hi.”  
  
Harry’s grin widened. “Hello,” he answered. “How are you?” 

“I think I’m about to faint, how bout yourself?” 

“Much the same.” 

“Alright.” 

“Hey, Louis?” 

“Hm?” 

“Thank you.”

_ //star wipe// _

“Zayn! Where’s my–oh, shit. There it is. Sorry, Zayn.”

Zayn grunted at him. He was a bit preoccupied loading up the packhorse with all of their supplies. 

Three months into Knighthood, and the Knights of Crestary had just received their first quest. 

It was an exciting time for everyone except Zayn, who never thought he’d have to live with the consequences of choosing to avoid wearing armour during a silly Louis Adventure. Everyone knew Louis Adventures never went anywhere: he was on a new one each week. 

The latest adventure was starting to look more and more permanent by the day. 

Niall and Liam were shaking hands with the Queen, who had graciously decided to come down to the castle steps to bid them adieu. 

It was the least she could do, really; it was her idea to send them off for a two week ride just because she’d heard rumour of an evil witch who'd cursed a young maiden, locking her alone in a tall tower.   
  
If history had taught Louis anything, it was that it was pretty fucking likely that the witch and the maiden were one and the same. 

Still. 

It’s a living. 

Louis felt a tug on the back of his cloak, and turned attentively. 

Harry stood behind him, dressed rather dashingly in the colours of the Royal Guard. 

“The Queen has finally granted me permission to come with you!” He spread his arms wide, and Louis launched himself into them. 

“Actually, she did that days ago,” Zayn muttered as he passed. 

Harry scowled at him. 

Louis pulled back and raised his eyebrows. 

“I wanted to be dramatic,” Harry pouted. 

Louis laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek (still entirely flesh; no lingering symptoms, thank god). “I support your decision.” 

“Thank you. Hey—can we pass by Tiny Crestary on our way? It sounded so cute in your story.”

“Oh, is that thing still standing?” The Queen wrinkled her nose. “Knock it down, would you?”

Liam opened his mouth to argue, but Niall clamped a hand over it before he could.   
  
“Absolutely, Your Majesty.” He grinned. 

She waved her hand and disappeared back up the stairs without a goodbye. 

Zayn snorted and turned the packhorse towards the drawbridge. As he started walking, he asked, “Do you think the King will start to smell while we’re gone?”

Harry looked to Louis with a question in his eyes.   
  
Louis patted his shoulder. “Zayn has this insane theory that the King has been dead for years.” 

Harry nodded. “Fair enough.”

Zayn sent him an appreciative nod. "It's going to become relevant any second now."

There was a beat of silence.

“So, Louis,” Harry said. He waved to the guards at the drawbridge as they passed. They didn’t wave back; not a very friendly bunch, Louis’d gathered. “Do you still have that token of good luck I gave you?” 

“That bag of air?” Louis pulled the pouch in question from under his shirt. “Of course. You finally gonna tell me what part of it is supposed to give good luck?”

Harry smiled at the pouch, then at Louis. Even after three months, Louis still wasn’t used to being looked at like that.

“It’s lucky because it’s the only thing that didn’t burn,” Harry said softly. 

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Cryptic.”  
  
Harry looked around at the others. “Oh, did you all not get my backstory? I swear it was in there somewhere.”

He received four blank looks in return—five, if you counted the horse.

“Alright, I’ll tell you on the way to Tiny Crestary,” Harry said. Louis brightened—he loved Harry’s stories. They were always incomprehensible and wonderfully long winded.

Liam groaned. “Louis, tell your husband that we love him but we don’t wanna hear it.”

Louis picked up a rock from the ground at pegged it at Liam’s chest. 

“Ow!” He yelled, ducking away as if he wasn't wearing spear-proof armour.

“Did we get married while I wasn’t looking?” Harry asked, ignoring Liam’s outrage. 

“Doesn’t breaking a curse together count as a de-facto marriage?” Niall asked, scratching his scruff. 

“No, that’s only if the curse if broken with true love’s kiss,” Zayn answered.

“Well, there was love and kissing!” Niall argued. “That’s something!”  
  
“No one’s saying it isn’t something, I’m just saying–”

“Why do you always have to fight me about things, Z?” 

“When have I ever fought you!”   
  
Niall waved his hands in the air. “We’re fighting right now!”

“C’mon, guys, calm down,” Liam intervened. 

Harry and Louis shared a look, ignoring the three-way brawl that had erupted behind them. 

“Apparently, you love me,” Harry teased. He poked Louis in the side. 

Louis stuck his nose in the air. “No, I go on dangerous quests for _ every _tragic creature I meet in a swamp.”

Harry gasped. “Even Fernando?” 

Louis sent him a look. “I think you know.”

Harry pressed his hand to his heart, staggering and groaning until he had Louis giggling into his hand. 

Harry’s face turned serious. He watched Louis watch the road for a while as he worked up the courage to speak.

“Hey—uh,” he stuttered, running his hand through his hair. “I love you, too.”

Louis shot him a look. It was dubious at first, but it soon melted into adoration.

He opened his mouth, then pulled a face. “Promise me we won’t honeymoon _ anywhere _near swampland.”

Harry burst into laughter loud enough to startle the others out of their squabble.

When they demanded to know what was so funny, Harry could only laugh harder. 

The Lady Aurelia, part time dragon and full time witch in possession of a gilded scrying mirror, watched the scene with a smile on her face from the safety of her cave. 

She dipped a quill into ink and draw crossed out a line on a very long list that said. It read: <strike>_make it up to that guy I turned into a swamp. _</strike>

She down looked at the rest of the list and winced. 

** _Here endeth the story(eth). _ **

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Make sure to check out the other wonderfully ridiculous fics in this exchange.


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